


Fat Tuesday

by lyricalsoul



Series: Mycroft's In Love [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: All Dialogue, Lestrade has a pancake obsession, M/M, Sherlock is bored, Talking, Texting, what are you wearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-27
Updated: 2012-02-27
Packaged: 2017-10-31 19:29:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/347586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyricalsoul/pseuds/lyricalsoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another phone conversation in which Mycroft apologizes (again), Lestrade bristles (again), and Sherlock is bored. Mycroft and Lestrade are still feeling their way. Gregory is incorrigible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fat Tuesday

**Author's Note:**

> More of Mycroft's in Love... it seems that I cannot write anything other than dialogue right now. I missed Fat Tuesday by a few days, but no harm, no foul. 
> 
> Thanks for all the kudos on my scribblings. Means the world to me.

 

“Apologies, Gregory.”

“So you’ve said.”

“You’re very prickly. I hope this is temporary, and not a personality defect that I have overlooked.”

“I’m not prickly. I’m annoyed.”

“I fail to see the difference.”

“I woke up, and you were gone. Annoying.”

“Couldn’t be helped. Leaving the warm cocoon of your body in my bed wasn’t an easy task, but there was an emergency.”

“It’s Fat Tuesday.”

“So you’ve said.”

“I can’t believe you don’t know what that means. You’ve never been to Carnival or Mardi Gras?”

“You’ve met me. My intense dislike of crowds and parades aside, just what do you suppose I would do at such an event?”

“You don’t like parades?”

“No.”

“What do you like? No, never mind because something tells me the answer will shock me even more.”

“Undoubtedly.”

 “Okay, so maybe I can’t take you to America for an evening of debauchery, but you can’t have Mardi Gras without flapjacks. Which you promised you would eat with me this morning. Instead, I wake up to find you gone. Without a note, or a farewell kiss.”

“I did kiss you. Quite thoroughly. And I called as soon as I knew you were awake.”

“Motion detector? Hidden camera?”

“…”

“Sorry. I’ve never dated a… what is it you do?”

“I occupy a minor position in the British government. Contrary to popular opinion, I am not a criminal mastermind. This is dating?”

“Protests too much, I thinks.  And yes, in its own twisted way, it is dating.”

“As I have no experience in such matters, I bow to both your definition, and your expertise. At any rate, I am an observant man, and have noted that you are a man of habit. You generally don’t sleep past five, even on your day off. And all your talk of flapjacks, which I find frighteningly disturbing, meant you would be rising early in an ambitious yet futile attempt to make them, or drag me to an establishment that serves them.”

“I can cook.”

“Piling beans on toast, or heating a packet of soup in the microwave do not count as cooking. Nor does asking the cook to make your chips extra dark.”

“I can read a recipe, and follow directions. I am a detective inspector, after all.”

“I am unwilling to let you experiment in my kitchen.”

“You haven’t lived until I’ve made you a proper fry-up.”

“Haven’t I?”

“Oh, sure, a posh chap like yourself would never find himself in a café, or a pub, but I’m telling you… hey, you’re mocking me.”

“Yes. You are so easily riled, I don’t know whether to be afraid or aroused when you start going on about things. Aroused is definitely winning, though.”

“No fair trying to distract me by using your sexy voice.”

“That would be wholly unprofessional of me, doing so while taking care of matters of national importance.”

“Well, at least I know you didn’t just pop out to get crisps.”

“I do not eat crisps.”

“Mycroft… hang on a minute…text coming in.”

“Duty calling?”

**Bored.**

**SH**

“Sherlock is bored.”

“And the earth goes around the sun.”

“He’ll keep at it until I answer.”

“So answer.”

**Nothing on right now. John’s blog a dead end?**

**GL**

**Evidently. If you are holding out on me because of the thing with your badge, I apologise.**

**SH**

**No. But stop doing it.**

**GL**

**Where are you?**

**SH**

“Where am I?  Nosy bugger.”

“If you value your sanity, and mine, do not answer that question, Gregory.”

“What? Why not? You want to keep us on the q.t.?”

“Not at all. It’s just that he’ll be…Sherlock, for lack of a better word, and will make your life – and mine - hellish.”

“More than he does already?”

“Yes. The less said to him the better. I do not relish the thought of Sherlock meddling in my affairs.”

“To be clear, not only do I have to deal with trying to fit myself into your life at a level with which I’m comfortable, I have to deal with your spoiled brother at work, and in my personal life? So he can blurt out whatever details he has as he sees fit?”

“So it would seem. You are aware that Sherlock is incorrigible. Hopefully, a case will come along and distract him.”

“You should come with a warning label. It’s not fair to let someone just walk into…this.”

“This?”

“This. Insane hours in different time zones, my work, your work, Sherlock…god knows what else there is lurking underneath the surface.”

“You no longer wish to be my…valentine?”

**Something to do with my brother it seems. Don’t bother denying.**

**SH**

**Sod off Sherlock or another drugs bust is coming your way. Anderson is very keen…**

**GL**

**Fine. Go back to your boyfriend.**

**SH**

“Now that I’ve shut your brother up for the moment, let’s deal with you, shall we?”

“I understand that I am not your usual type.”

“Shows what you know. I came after you, remember?”

“Vividly.”

“So that means that I like you – probably more than is sensible – and want to be with you. I know your memory is damned near perfect, so don’t pretend that you don’t remember what I told you.”

“I do, but understand, Gregory, that this is new to me. I do not have…relationships. Alliances, perhaps. And, until very recently, sex had not entered into the picture in a…while. I seem to want both with you. However, I am aware that although you have had a few dalliances with men, your preference is women.”

“Dalliances? Are you reading my dossier?”

“Again, a minor position within the British government. I do not have a dossier on you. It is common knowledge that you are only recently separated.”

“Maybe dossier is too strong a word. Intel? File? Google alert?”

“Detective Inspector, why would I have such things?”

“And that’s my cue to stop talking about it, right?”

“There’s a reason you’re the Yard’s finest.”

“How long before you get to come home? Because we really need to talk about the conclusions you’re jumping to.”

“I do not jump to conclusions. Much like you, I determine the facts based on evidence.”

“Your evidence is bollocks.”

“It remains evidence, no matter how much you disagree.”

“Well, bright boy, let me tell you something about what I prefer. I prefer you. Period. Yes, it’s challenging, with our respective schedules, your pesky little brother, and all the other normal things that come with relationships, but really, I’m where I want to be. All I need is for you to stop trying to foresee everything and relax.”

“I am not the relaxed sort, as I’m sure you can tell. But, I will try. Now, I must get back to work if I’m to return home at a decent hour.”

“Okay, but before you go, I have a question.”

“No.”

“What are you wearing?”

“I may have mentioned matters of national importance...”

“Tell me.”

“It’s…the shirt is white.”

“And the earth goes around the sun.”

“Well, more of an eggshell, if pressed.”

“Very pressed. Go on.”

“Your voyeuristic tendencies are going to be my undoing.”

“But what a way to go...”

“The suit is beige herringbone, the tie is a wine pindot.”

“Sexy, that. Tell me about your shoes…”

“Now is not the time.”

“Are they camel colored loafers? Wing tips? Are they shiny? What about your socks? Oh, and how about your belt? Or do you wear braces? Seems like overkill, but if you do, please let me help you take them off when you get home…mmm… tell me, Mycroft. Tell me all about what you’re wearing so I can dream about peeling you out of it later…”

“This is wreaking havoc on my powers of concentration. Would you cease and desist?”

“Cease and desist? The way you say it makes me want to do just the opposite...makes me want you right now.”

“While I confess that I feel the same, I do wish you would stop.”

“Make it worth my while.”

“If you stop, I’ll make sure you get your flapcakes.”

“Hot…jacks.. ah, you’ve scrambled my brain. Hotcakes.”

“Yes, yes, whichever one you want. Stop this torment, and I’ll see to it that you get them. Today.”

“With you. Otherwise, what’s the point?”

“What, indeed. Fine. Pancakes, with me. I suppose the fate of the free world can wait while I indulge your fantasies.”

“Okay, but pancakes, not crepes made by some fancy chef you keep chained in your cellar.”

“I don’t have a cellar, Detective Inspector Lestrade.”

“Very funny, that. Make it happen. And make it good, or we’re going to live chats...”

“Heaven forbid. Talk later.”

*click*


End file.
